


take a peek through the blinds (and maybe you'll see all of me)

by TameTheBeastZayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Im emotional, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Riding, Rimming, Shotgunning, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Louis, Top Zayn, Voyeurism, as always, harry is a minx, im sorry, or something of the like, the larry bits are fluff, then a few weeks later wrecks harry, theres a lot of sex, they smoke some weed, zayn and louis are dating, zayn basically destroys harry, zayn wrecks louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7143788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TameTheBeastZayn/pseuds/TameTheBeastZayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Zayn laughs, loud, and lets go of Louis’ hair to cover his face, as if he was embarrassed. Louis pulls his cock out of his mouth.</em><br/> <br/><em>“I’m sorry, is my cock sucking technique funny?” he asks in faux annoyance. Zayn giggles, looking down at Louis.</em></p><p>  <em>“Fuck, no, you’re brilliant,” he insists. “But - do not look now Louis, I swear to God - up and across.” And of course, as soon as the words leave Zayn’s mouth, Louis looks. At first he doesn’t see it, but then -</em></p><p>  <em>“Oh my God!” Louis whispers. There’s someone, watching them, over their railing. “There’s someone - “</em></p><p>x</p><p>Zayn and Louis discover their neighbor is somewhat of a voyeur. Something was bound to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a peek through the blinds (and maybe you'll see all of me)

**Author's Note:**

> zourry does things to my soul, and that's basically the inspiration for this. as always, sorry if this sucks, but i'm just trying to pass the time. if you're still with me, thanks for clicking, and hope you enjoy!!

Life in L.A. was good, at least, Louis thought so. The weather was nice, the food amazing, the people pretty. And uni was okay; the community college’s drama department blew every English college’s out of the waters (well, colleges Louis could get into).

But even better than the uni, food, people, or weather in L.A. was Zayn Malik, Louis’ roommate and boyfriend. They were together from the minute they stepped foot in America, and maybe even before that, but Louis doesn't keep track of remedial things like that. They lived in an apartment complex a few blocks away from the school, and payed for living in very different ways-- Louis, by dancing - not stripping, but _dancing_ , getting into a pair of gold hot pants, slathering himself in body glitter, and getting locked in a cage, to _dance_ \- and Zayn by selling his artwork. They’re some match: a drama major/go-go dancer and an artist.

Louis can't complain; Zayn’s great company, being the only other person he knows from London, and the only person he’s actually comfortable being around enough to live with them. So, put simply, Louis enjoys his life. A lot more than most people his age, anyway.

Louis comes home from his one o’clock lecture one afternoon to find Zayn stretched out on a banana yellow yoga mat, leg in the air, back arched. Louis hangs his bag on the peg behind the door, drops his keys into the bowl on the coffee table, and goes to the kitchen to get a beer. He comes back, and Zayn’s in a new position, body curled, hands on the ground, toes barely touching his mat. Louis watches as all the muscles in his arms twitch, and with one long exhale, he maneuvers himself into a sitting position. Sweat glistens on his neck, drips into the dip of his collarbones. He looks up at Louis, who hovers in the doorway of the kitchen.

 “Hey.” Louis smiles, taking a long pull of his beer.

 “Hey.” Zayn stretches his arms in silence a bit before eyeing Louis.

 “Well, bring your ass over here.” Louis rolls his eyes, but goes no matter. He sits down in front of Zayn on his knees and gives over the bottle after Zayn asks for it with his hands. Louis watches as the younger boy wraps his lips around the mouth of the beer beautifully, adam's apple bobbing with equal beauty.

 “Isn’t beer bad for you when exercising?” Louis asks. Zayn squints his eyes in thought, brings up his shirt to mop the sweat from his face.

 “Who said that?” He takes another gulp of the beer.

 “No one needed to say it. Common sense.” Zayn just shrugs his shoulders, then finishes the bottle. “Hey,” Louis says, whine evident, “I only had a few drinks.”

 “ Yeah, well too bad.” Zayn undermines his harsh words with a childish smile. “Hey, come here.” Louis crosses his arms in mock annoyance, not moving an inch. “Come here,” Zayn tries again, this time, with a jab to Louis’ ribs. Louis yelps, then scooches closer to Zayn, knees touching, faces only inches apart. Zayn smiles, satisfied. “How was your day?” Louis huffs.

 “Good, I guess.”

 “Yeah?” Zayn asks. Louis leans in a bit, invading Zayn’s space.

 “Yeah,” he whispers.

 “Mmm,” Zayn hums, eyes darting over Louis’ face. “I think I know a way to make it even better.” Louis smiles.

 “Oh, yeah?”

 “Yeah.” Louis leans forward, closing his eyes into a soft kiss. Zayn smiles against his lips, then kisses him again, soft, lingering.

 “What exactly -” _kiss_ -“did you -” _kiss_ -“have in mind?” Louis asks, in between pecks, and Zayn just smiles again.

 “Was thinking you could suck me, then I could return the favor?” Louis giggles.

 “Where people can see?” Zayn looks out their sliding glass door, which they were currently seated in front of, to their small patio.

 “No one’s gonna see.” And Louis knows that, knows that someone would only see if the people above and across from them came out and _happened_ to look directly at their apartment and into their (very open) glass doors. But the people above and across from them never came out, _ever_ , so.

Louis isn’t (shouldn't be) worried.

He lets out a long sigh. “Alright.” And Zayn pauses, surprised Louis agreed, and without much persuasion.

 “Okay.” Louis sits back and lets Zayn pull down his sweats, pooling the material around his calves, and then the younger boy lays down, stretching his legs out on the mat. Louis gets between his legs, tapping Zayn’s hip to signal for him to lift them, letting Louis slip the tight material of his boxers off. In the thirty seconds it's taken Louis to agree and get Zayn’s clothes out of the way, the dark haired boy’s cock has fattened up, and as soon as the boxers are gone, it slaps to Zayn’s stomach. Louis lowers himself to where he’s laying against the ground, only his torso on the mat, elbows on either side of Zayn’s thighs. He smiles, kisses Zayn’s hip.

 “Have I ever told you how much I love your dick?”

 “Flattery gets you no - _fuck_ ,” he whispers harshly when Louis sucks the first few inches into his mouth. Zayn sits up on his elbows to watch Louis. The older boy hollows his cheeks, eyelashes fluttering, and then he does something with his tongue, swirls it or something absolutely _magnificent_ , and it leaves Zayn’s toes curling, head bashing against one of their end tables.

 “Ow, fuck.” Louis looks up, Zayn’s cock still in his mouth, but doesn’t say anything, just continues to jerk off the part of Zayn he can't fit into his mouth. “Louis…” A groan escapes Zayn’s mouth, all pain forgotten, when Louis presses his fingers into his sac, looking up at Zayn with a glint in his eyes. He pulls off, with a loud pop, and swallows.

 “Fuck my face,” he says. Zayn laughs and looks down his body at Louis, a smirk plastered to his face.

 “Think you can take it?” Louis rolls his eyes, taking Zayn’s cock back into his mouth as a reply. Zayn grabs a fistful of Louis’ hair and lifts his hips up slowly, bringing Louis down until the older boy is tearing up, water leaking from the corners of his eyes, throat muscles fluttering. Zayn pulls back, and feels Louis’ intake of breath, then slams back in, holding Louis around his cock for a few seconds. He pulls back, until just his tip is nestled between Louis’ lips, then starts to move shallowly, a series of thrusts that make Louis lose his breath, and Zayn is good at this, knows just how far to take it. Louis focuses his eyes on Zayn, watches as he leans back, letting out a few curses, moves his other hand in to cradle Louis’ face. Zayn’s chest rises and falls quickly, abdominal muscles jumping when Louis swivels his tongue, and then he laughs, Zayn _laughs_ , loud, and lets go of Louis’ hair to cover his face, as if he was embarrassed. Louis pulls his cock out of his mouth.

 “I’m sorry, is my cock sucking technique funny?” he asks in faux annoyance. Zayn giggles, looking down at Louis.

 “Fuck, no, you’re _brilliant_ ,” he insists. “But - _do not look now Louis, I swear to God_ \- up and across.” And of course, as soon as the words leave Zayn’s mouth, Louis looks. At first he doesn’t see it, but then -

 “Oh my God!” Louis whispers. There’s someone, watching them, over their railing. “There’s someone - “

 “Louis, he’s fit, shut up and blow me.” And yes, Zayn’s right, he _is_ fit. Very. Dark, curly hair, skin tight jeans, blue button up. Louis stares a little too long, because Curly smirks - he fucking _smirks_ \- and brings his hand up in a slight wave. Louis still has a handful of Zayn’s dick, but uses his other to slowly move his fingers at the stranger.

 “Did you _wave_?” Zayn asks quietly.

 “He waved first,” Louis says defensively.

 “Maybe if you keep sucking me, he’ll leave.”

 “ _Selfish_ ,” Louis chastises playfully. He looks back up to the boy, watches as he rests his elbows on the railing and leans over, grinning maniacally. “Zayn, as much as I appreciate your rationalization, I don’t think he’s gonna leave anytime soon.” Zayn pouts, sitting up on his elbows. He looks at his cock, still hard despite the situation.

 “I’m _not_ letting you stop.” Louis gasps, tears his eyes away from Curly.

 “ _Not letting me?_ Are you going to _force_ yourself on me?” Louis asks. “I’m calling the cops!” But before Zayn can protest, he ducks his head down, taking the tip of said boy’s cock into his mouth. Louis lets his saliva slide down Zayn’s shaft, into his fingers, and uses it to move his hand up and down, fast. Zayn groans, canting his hips up to fuck into Louis’ hand.

 “Come here,” he whispers breathlessly, and Louis sits up, never once stopping his hand, leans over Zayn’s torso, and kisses the younger boy, mashes their lips together and licks into his mouth, swiping his thumb over Zayn’s slit over and over until Zayn’s panting, nipping at Louis’ lip, letting out a few strained curses.

 “ _Fuck_ , Lou, gonna - gonna -” and his body goes stiff, hips in the air, mouth parted slightly on Louis’ cheek, as his orgasm washes through him, come spilling over Louis’ fist and dripping in between his fingers. He kisses Zayn once before looking outside,flicking his fringe to find that Curly is _still_ there, and almost as if he can read Louis’ mind, sense his wonder, he hold up two fingers to his forehead and salutes him, then moves away from the railing and opens his patio door, disappearing into his apartment.

 “Is he -” Zayn starts, but Louis cuts him off.

 “A very hot boy just saw me sucking dick,” Louis says gravely. Zayn laughs, kisses Louis’ nose.

 “Do you want me to -” He runs his fingers over the ridge of Louis’ cock through his jeans, and Louis mewls, takes a breath and nods. He crawls up Zayn’s torso, knees bracketing his ribs, and unbuttons his pants, pushing them down his thighs until Zayn can tug his cock out of his boxers, hand jerking him roughly. Louis lets out a long groan, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train, and if he thinks about Curly watching him, and if it's Curly’s wicked smile that pops into his brain right as he comes into Zayn’s fist, no one has to know.

 

-

 

“I thought I recognized him!” Zayn shouts a few nights later, coming through the door after an art deal. Louis is in the kitchen, eating from a container of chicken chow mein, which he is more than likely going to get food poisoning from. He looks up and takes a swig of his beer.  

 “Who are you talking about?” Louis questions. Zayn goes to the fridge and pulls out a jug of guava juice that Louis didn't know existed.

 “You know. Tall, curly, likes watching you blow me from the apartment across the way.” Louis sputters.

 “You know him?”

 “No, Jesus, of course not.” Zayn sits down across from Louis at their kitchen table, and doesn’t complain when Louis puts his feet in his lap. “Just have class with him.” Once again, Louis sputters, beer dribbling onto his bare chest.

 “You’re kidding, right?” Zayn shakes his head, then grabs the take out container from Louis’ hands.

 “When I first saw him, it was vague, like, ‘hey you look like someone I’ve seen before’, like maybe someone proper famous, but then today, I go to my philosophy class to pick up my prints, and there he is, talking to the professor.” Louis laughs, takes back the Chinese food.

 “Did you say anything? Get his name?” Zayn nods.

 “Mr. Styles. Professor doesn’t like calling students by their first name.”

 “Ooh.” Louis takes a sip of beer. “Mr. Styles, bend me over a desk and spank me,” he says around a bite of noodles, voice high pitched. “Please Mr. Styles, I’ve been a bad boy.” Zayn giggles into his cup, looks at Louis as he drinks.

 “Let me eat you out,” he says eventually. “See if he watches.” Louis chokes on a piece of cabbage.

 “Are you fucking - “

 “Maybe he has a roommate, he could watch too.” Louis eyes Zayn as he takes the last drink of his beer. “Would you like getting watched?” Zayn plays with Louis’ ankle in his lap, thumb petting across Louis’ bone. “Let people see you, spread out on my tongue, begging me to let you come.” He moves his hand up Louis’ leg, massages his calf.

 “Your mouth - “

 “That’s what you’ll be saying.” And Louis looks up from the food to find Zayn smiling at him, tongue between his teeth. Louis swallows once before dropping his eyes, mulling it over a few seconds before dropping the container of food.

 “Let’s do it.” He pulls his leg out of Zayn’s grasp, and stands up from the table. “Get your mat, then.” Zayn cheers loudly at that, and gets up, disappearing down the hall to retrieve the aforementioned object. Louis goes out to the living room, opens the door a bit. He takes off his jean shorts and steps out of his boxers before quickly jerking himself to hardness. With the knowledge of what’s definitely going to happen - Zayn eating him out - and what may happen - Mr. Curly Styles coming to watch - it doesn’t take long. Zayn comes back - stark naked, surprisingly - yoga mat in hand. Zayn sets it out, this time pushing the window length blinds open all the way, so if Mr. Curly Styles decided to look down and across, he’d be seeing Zayn’s face buried in Louis’ ass. (If Louis came across someone being eaten out, especially if the participants were as hot as he and Zayn were, he’d stay and watch, most definitely.)

 “Moan as loud as you can at first, to get him out here, and then make it real. If you’re quiet, it’ll keep him interested.” Louis squats down to get on all fours, Zayn on his knees behind him.

 “I’m startled by how much you know about voyeurism tactics.”

 “It’s called Google. Now.” Zayn traces a finger down Louis’ spine. “Ready for the rim job of a lifetime?”  

 “First the orgasm of a lifetime, and now this?” Louis looks over his shoulder. “I can hardly get your fingers down there, is it because -”

 “There isn’t an ulterior motive here,” Zayn says tiredly. “I wanna eat your pussy and you’re being -”

 “Then eat my pussy!” Louis shouts, the last word masked by a giggle. Zayn spreads Louis’ cheeks apart, the sudden air making Louis shiver. And then Zayn licks a broad stripe upward, and Louis collapses onto his forearms, the feeling so excruciatingly wonderful. His head spins, his ears ring, and while he’s trying to regain his strength, Zayn twirls his tongue around in a tight circle, then pushes in, a slick noise filling the air. Louis slips down, legs spreading further as Zayn continues to hold him open and lick at him, not wasting any time teasing. Louis moans loud, letting out a litany of curses. Zayn pulls away, breath heavy, and huffs a laugh into Louis’ ass.

 “Say something really nasty,” Zayn instructs. Louis laughs at how ridiculous this whole situation is, but does as told, focusing his eyes on the apartment above and across from them.

 “Fuck daddy,” he moans, loud, exaggerated. “Lick my hole.” As if on cue, Louis sees a movement, and he waits, watching as Curly’s  patio door opens. There’s boisterous laughter, and then Zayn, excited, words mumbled against skin.

 “Is that him?”

 “I think so.” Zayn smiles, then puts his focus back on Louis. He licks a fast, tiny path over Louis, and its good, its nice, but then Zayn’s pushing a finger in, laughing at how Louis arches his back.

 “Was that real -”

 “No one could ever fake that, fuck.” Louis drops his head between his shoulders, then moans, exaggerated. “Fuck my hole, daddy. Mmm, right there.” Zayn kisses Louis’ spine and thrusts his fingers in roughly, fingers curling, searching, and then he hits the spot, the _good_ spot, and Louis moans, low, real. Louis lifts his head, and sees a familiar head peeking through the door. “Fuck, daddy, pound my ass.” Zayn adds another finger, spits to moisten it, and finds Louis’ prostate with practiced ease. Louis groans, bites his lip, looks straight into the eyes above and across from him. “Want your thick cock, daddy.” Curly comes out of his apartment and sits in a chair, slouching. He rubs his fingers over his lips, nods his head once. Louis laughs, looking back at Zayn.

 “He just took a seat.”

 “Holy fuck.”

 “Zayn, fuck me,” he whispers, turning around, sitting up on his elbows. “The lube in the vase. Go.” Zayn smiles and gets up, cock full against his belly, the faint traces of precum lining his belly button. Louis moves to where his body is following the length of the glass, horizontal to the boy watching from his patio, and slowly strokes his cock, until Zayn’s back. There’s already lube on his fingers, and he gets between Louis’ legs, swiftly rubs the cold substance over his hole, and kisses away Louis’ shivers. Zayn pushes the older boy down fully onto the mat, and looks up, to Curly, Louis presumes, and Zayn’s expression makes Louis laugh.

 “I think he’s hard.”

 “No!” Louis says, but Zayn nods.

 “He’s hard, and he's rubbing at it.”

 “Zayn,” Louis says, bringing back his attention. Zayn smiles down at Louis. then kisses him, all while slicking himself up nicely. Zayn puts his head on Louis’ shoulder, guiding his cock into the older boy slowly and carefully. Louis feels himself being watched, so he looks to the left and finds that Zayn was right, Harry’s rubbing over his flies, and Louis giggles into Zayn’s hair.

 “Oh my God.” He laughs, and then Zayn bottoms out, and he says it again, “oh my God, “ this time in a darker tone. Zayn bites at Louis’ shoulder, then pulls back, and snaps his hips forward, knocking the breath from Louis’ lungs. Zayn brings up Louis’ leg, and wraps an arm around his waist, working up a pace that’s not fast, but hard and deep, and Zayn kisses the length of Louis’ collarbone, squeezes Louis’ thigh. Louis feels loved, honestly, because Zayn could just be fucking him into the ground, but he’s not and he’s making it good, so good. Louis opens his eyes, leaning forward a bit on his elbows to mouth wet kisses up Zayn’s neck, lets out a few pleased gasps into the heated skin. Zayn lets out a murmured, “Fuck Lou,” and then he sits up, arms on either side of Louis’ body, and he doubles into it, fucking Louis faster, harder, thrusts shallower, but equally as satisfying. Louis throws his head back and moans, exaggerated, and looks to Curly, who’s biting his lip, squeezing his hand along what Louis assumes to be his dick. Louis opens his mouth in a gasp and furrows his brows, eyes still on their single audience member. Zayn nips at Louis’ neck, then, loud and clear:

 “Look so good taking my cock, slut,” and Louis has to try really extremely hard not to giggle, because, fuck, Zayn just doesn’t say things like that. He’s a … _sensual_ lover, more concerned for Louis’ pleasure than his own, more for soft, sated _yeah_ ‘s and _you good_? ‘s. Curly seemed to love it, though; he shifts in his seat and Louis doesn’t know what he’s doing, until he sees the v of an open zipper.

 “Zayn - _fuck_ \- I’m pretty sure he’s -” he pauses to catch his breath after a particularly hard thrust, “I think he’s jerking off.”

 “Fuck, Louis, just,” and Zayn tilts his head, captures Louis in a kiss, a hot, hot kiss, and Louis moans, not exaggerated, just for Zayn.

 “Fuck me,” he says, just so Zayn can hear. “Just like that, baby.” Zayn bites Louis’ lip, then rests his head in his shoulder once more, fucking into Louis with a rhythm that hits the older boy’s prostate perfectly each thrust. Zayn sucks a mark into Louis collarbone, then bites at it, intensifying the pain. Louis hisses, trying to get a hand around his cock but failing miserably. Instead he moves, lies flat on his back, and waits for Zayn to get settled again, hands on either side of Louis’ ribcage, Louis’ legs wrapped around his waist, mouths hovering. They stay like that, just breathing each other’s air, Zayn moaning sinfully into Louis’ mouth when he re enters the older boy. Mr. Curly Styles is all but forgotten - at least for Louis - until they hear a sharp gasp, and Zayn laughs, fucking Louis like a madman. Louis goes numb with white hot pleasure, and when  Zayn wraps a hand around his cock, Louis can't help the way his orgasm hits him, fast and sudden. Louis barrels over the edge with a “fuck, Zayn, yeah,” nearly whispered. He comes into Zayn’s tight fist, a deep groan resonating in Zayn’s throat, and Louis feels the warmness of the younger boy’s come being pushed into him.

Zayn collapses on top of Louis, heavy breaths filling the air. Louis’ heart is still racing, going a mile a minute, and then he’s back to reality, snapping out of his orgasm induced haze to look over, out of their window, and he expects Curly to be sitting there, smirking, but the chair he was sat in is empty.

As if Zayn knows Louis is looking, and that their _watcher_ isn’t there anymore, he huffs out a laugh, then kisses Louis’ scruffy jaw, getting up on his knees.

“Next time we’re asking his name,” Zayn says, and gets up off the floor, disappearing into the kitchen.

Louis just smiles, and asks, “Next time?”

Zayn laughs cutely in response.

 

-

 

Turns out there isn’t a next time. A few days go by, and Zayn and Louis fuck - every free minute they have, it seems - but Curly is back to being M.I.A., as he was prior to his first “voyeurism act”, as Stan calls it. (Really, who else is Louis supposed to tell about things like this??) Louis decides that it's perfectly okay, because if they start to become friends, then something is bound to happen, and Louis promptly dismisses the idea of a threesome, mainly for the fact that he doesn’t think Zayn would be into it. Zayn may be fucking sexy, and one hell of a shag, but he isn’t one for sharing.

At least, that’s what Louis likes to believe, so he doesn’t have to have a conversation about a threesome with someone he is very much in a dedicated relationship with.

 “Hey, Louis?” Zayn asks, on a Saturday. They’re on the couch, Zayn laying on top of Louis, just chilling, reruns of _Keeping Up With The Kardashians_ on their TV. Louis takes a sip of his apple juice.

 “Yeah?” Zayn thumbs over Louis nipple, eyes thoughtful.

 “Would you have sex with him?” It takes Louis a second to know who he’s talking about, but then he does, and he hooks his finger under Zayn’s chin, forcing the younger boy to look at him.

 “I’m going to tell you the truth, because I love you and I hate liars.” Zayn stays silent, hazel eyes wide and a little bloodshot from the half joint he smoked earlier. “If I wasn’t with you, and I knew him better, I would.” Louis gauges his reaction, but Zayn remains passive. “But I am with you, and I don’t know him past the fact that he likes watching people get off, and I’ll always love you even if we break up. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, and you don’t have to worry about me wanting another person. I just thought it was fun, and someone watching was kind of hot.” Zayn smiles then, nodding his head.

 “It _was_ hot,” he agrees, then, almost as if a second thought, “He’s hot.” Louis laughs.

 “Zayn, why haven’t you taken a picture of him yet and wrote soliloquies about the tightness of his jeans?”

 “Louis,” he says in the same tone, that of an impatient mother, “I don’t even know his name.”

 “Just call him Curly.”

 “Nothing rhymes with Curly.”

 “Burly, surely, early, girly, need I go on?”

 “Shut up.” Zayn’s smiling, rubbing his fingers over Louis’ chest. Louis watches as he slowly stops moving, and Louis knows he’s thinking about something, but stays quiet, ready for it whenever Zayn is. A few seconds later, Zayn looks up, question in his eyes.

 “Would you be up for it?” And Louis knows exactly what he’s talking about, but doesn’t want to talk about this now, not ever. He rolls his eyes, and Zayn laughs, unbelievably. “Do _not_ say no Louis, I know you would.”

 “Are you saying that because _you_ would?” Zayn laughs again, traces the outline of the words inked on Louis’ skin. “Be up for a threesome, I mean.” Zayn shakes his head, cheeks pink.

 “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea.”

 “We don’t even know his _name_ ,” Louis says, exasperated.

 “We know his last name, even better.” Louis laughs.

 “Get up, you ass.”

 “Why?”

 “Because I want to fuck, and then go to work, and maybe we can talk about this when I’m too shit faced to remember.” Zayn sits up to straddle Louis, grind a little into his boyfriend. He noses along Louis’ jaw, almost like a cat, and when he gets to the older boy’s ear, he whispers, “Gonna ride you, yeah?”

And Louis can’t think of a better way he’s ever ended a conversation.

 

-

 

The club is packed as Louis makes his way to Zayn, adrenaline and the remnants of some fruity drink Jesy had given him pumping through his veins. Its just after one, and Louis’ shift will be over soon, but he needs another shot, something to keep him awake. When he’d spotted Zayn, he quickly climbed down from his place on one of the clubs many terraces and waded through the crowd. When he gets about ten feet away, he sees a dark haired, tall boy clasping Zayn’s shoulder. They stand with their backs to Louis, and Zayn throws his head back in his signature flirtatious laugh, wrapping an arm around the stranger’s waist. Louis gets a feeling - jealousy? - that stabs him in the gut, digs at him until he’s on Zayn’s other side, the side not taken by the strange man. Zayn turns and looks at Louis, surprised at first, and then relieved.

 “To speak of the devil!” Zayn shouts over the music. Louis leans around Zayn to catch the stranger’s eye and tell him off, maybe even give him a swift kick -

Louis’ heart stops. Literally - he feels it skip, stutter, and he is _not_ breathing, because _fuck_ , he should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve had some kind of intuition about this, because here, right in front of him, clinging to Zayn like he was a glass of water amidst a drought, is Mr. Curly Styles himself, the person who watched him get fucked from a distance of about twenty feet. He’s just as hot as Louis suspected him to be - long, curly hair framing his beautiful face, a face that is home to wide, green eyes, cherry red lips, and is that? Yes, fucking dimples - and Louis can barely get past his dirty smirk to continue checking him out. Sinfully tight jeans, a silk button up that is- oh, only buttoned up to the middle of his abdomen, showing off half of what Louis assumes to be a butterfly tattoo right in the middle of his fucking stomach and two sparrows adorning his collarbones.

Curly swipes his tongue over his lips, and Louis has to contain his near groan of frustration.  “Well, Zayn, where are your manners?” Zayn laughs again - that boisterous, I’m-all-yours kind of laugh, that is only for Louis when they’re about to fuck, for Christ’s sake - and puts his other arm on Louis’ waist. He leans in for a kiss, then looks to Curly.

 “Harry, this is my boyfriend, Louis. Louis, this is the _illustrious_ Harry.” Louis just stands there in disbelief, until Zayn leans over and whispers none too quietly, “Its _him_.” He pulls back with a stupid smile. Harry just keeps smirking, and Louis resists the urge to slap (kiss) it off his pretty face. Instead Louis waves down a bartender, a new blonde boy with an Irish accent whose name is Neil (or something like that), and orders two rounds of vodka shots. Louis reaches his hand across Zayn’s chest.

 “Nice to meet you, Harry.” Harry takes his hand, fucking engulfs it, and gives it one firm shake.

 “Likewise, Louis.” His name rolls off his tongue in a way that makes Louis want to throw himself off a bridge that is miles above ground. Louis doesn’t understand how someone can sound so sexy while saying a _name_. His hand is still trapped in Harry’s and they have an intense staring match for a few seconds before the bartender’s back, six shot glasses in hand. He turns a bottle of alcohol upside down and waterfalls it over the glasses until they’re full, then smiles.

 “Harry! Haven’t seen you here in a while.” Louis tugs his hand away and smoothes it down Zayn’s chest.

 “Niall -” _Niall_ , _not Neil_ , “mate, I got sick of Nick’s stupid hipster coffee house shit. Needed a -” He looks at Louis and smirks. “Needed a change.” Niall laughs, pours a shot for himself. He holds up the glass, then shouts above the thudding music, “To change, and to new beginnings. May our relationships flourish!” A few people around them cheer and clink glasses, and Louis grabs two shots, clinking them together before downing them in succession. The rubbing alcohol taste subsides and Louis whoops, leans into Zayn to nip at his ear. Zayn gulps down his shots and smiles, turning to Louis automatically.

 “If he isn’t in our bed tonight, I will be very angry with you.” Zayn kisses Louis, pushing the older boy against the metal countertop of the bar. It’s a little indecent, but it makes quite the show, and after a small laugh from Harry that is barely heard over the music, Zayn pulls away, smiling against Louis’ lips.

 “Consider it a done deal, baby.” And with a large handful of Louis’ ass, Zayn pushes Louis back into the crowd, taking one of Harry’s shots. “Love you sweetums.”

Louis flips him off but walks back towards the front of the club, and if his hips slowly sway to the beat on the way there, he’ll blame it on the vodka.

 

-

 

They make it back to Louis and Zayn’s, complete with a bag of weed, courtesy Niall. Harry, bless his sweet little sexual deviant heart, had never smoked before (and at the ripe age of 20, _poor boy_ ), so it was only hospitable that before the fucking - which they all knew would come, whether or not it was spoken - they got Harry nice and high, because high sex was great sex in Louis’ book.

So here they are, crowded onto their small couch, and Louis is giggling, clambering into Harry’s lap to make more room for Zayn (who had screamed loudly in their hallway minutes before, “My fucking feet hurt and I just need a nap!”, in that whiney tone that Louis found so fucking _endearing_ and he’d kissed him on the mouth, noting the way Harry had stopped laughing the second Louis leaned in.) Zayn dangles his feet over the arm of the couch and takes the lit joint from between Louis’ fingers. He takes a puff, inhaling deeply and puffing out his cheeks like a blowfish. Louis straddles Harry and looks down at his boyfriend, who crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue. After a poke at Zayn’s cheek, Louis starts talking.

 “We’ll start you off slow; shotgunning, and then -”

 “What’s shotgunning?” Harry asks, tone serious. Zayn laughs, blowing out the rest of the smoke, and Louis just takes the joint back.

 “He takes a hit,” Zayn explains, and Louis exhales, then takes another, “then, he blows the smoke into your mouth, you hold it, and then blow it out.” Harry nods his head.

 “Alright.” He brings his hands up to Louis’ waist, and Louis takes a long drag of the joint before tapping Harry’s jaw,. The younger boy moves forward, placing his lips on Louis’ and sucking in. Louis pulls back, hands Zayn the spliff, then watches as Harry holds it, and holds it, and holds it. Finally, Harry sputters out a cough, and Zayn watches, silently amused, as Louis drags his hands up Harry’s chest and links them behind his neck.

 “Fuck,” Harry says around a rough cough. Louis smiles.

 “That was good,” Zayn says. “A little lighter on the sucking - Louis’ blowing, so it should be okay.” Louis nods.

 “Show me,” Harry says. Louis and Zayn look at him confused. “I mean, you guys. Show me.” And before Louis can say anything, Zayn’s taking a drag, and Louis’ leaning down, opening his mouth against Zayn’s softly chapped lips. They stay together, and Louis exhales, eyes open as Zayn stares back, and then they kiss, a simple press of lips, that has Harry giving Louis a clap on the thigh.

 “My turn,” he says huskily. Louis leans back to Harry with a quick wink in Zayn’s direction and smiles.

 “Eager, yeah?”

 “Just wanna graduate, to where it’s mutual.”

 “Ooh, Louis, I think someone wants to kiss you.” Louis watches as Harry turns the lightest shade of pink.

 “Zayn, don’t pick on him.” Louis takes the joint back, and takes a hit. Harry’s there, and he expects a soft sucking, maybe a little kiss, but what he gets is Harry smashing his lips against Louis’, and Louis can't breathe, so he lets out the smoke, the white cloud billowing around their faces. He kisses Harry back then, because _how forward_. Harry pries open Louis’ mouth with a tongue swiping against the roof of the older boy’s mouth, and Louis lets out a small moan, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. Zayn laughs softly beside them, and Louis feels a hand come to rest on his back. It’s Zayn’s - he knows the feeling of his hands, even through two layers of clothing - rubbing over Louis’ spine, a sort of anchor, keeping him tied to who he really belongs to.

Harry pulls away with a small smile. “You guys can keep smoking, but I’m - I think - I’m ninety nine point nine percent positive I’m high.” Zayn swings his legs over the side of the couch and sits up, a small smile on his face.

 “So you only came over to smoke my weed, yeah?” he asks, putting out the joint. Harry dimples, eyes glassy.

 “Needed something to loosen me up.” Louis can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth, and he turns his head, about to make the joke, when Harry continues, “You looked like you could loosen things up pretty well.” Louis guffaws at that, tugs harshly at Harry’s head.

 “You’re quite the neighbor, Harry.” Zayn nods his head in agreement, pets a hand over his shoulders, his nice, nice shoulders. Harry looks at Zayn when he speaks.

 “Well, you two are quite the show.” Zayn smiles, eyes glistening, and Louis knows that look, knows exactly what is coming.

 “Enjoyed me eating him out, yeah?” Harry laughs, moving one of his hands to Zayn’s thigh.

 “Such a slut for it.” Louis’ tongue grows heavy in his mouth, and he looks at Harry’s hand, spindly fingers starfished out, milky skin dotted in dark ink. It’s silent for a few beats, and then Zayn, exhausted.

 “You guys are leaving me out.” Louis laughs and wiggles off Harry’s lap.

 “I’ll be back,” he says, and disappears into the kitchen. He needed a breather; it was stifling being the center of that much tension, and yeah, the high was kicking in. Louis leans against the counter and counts to ten three times before returning, and color him surprised when he finds Zayn on top of Harry, hands trying to push off the younger boy’s shirt impatiently. Harry, from his laying position under Zayn, smiles when Louis returns.

 “I was supposed to be showing Zayn here my tattoos, but we kinda fell.” Zayn looks back to Louis and flashes him a shit eating grin.

 “I think he was looking for an excuse to get your clothes off, actually,” Louis says, putting a hand on his hip and smiling. Zayn laughs, so close to Harry that their mouths are only centimeters apart.

 “Guilty as charged.” Harry dimples, hands coming to rest on Zayn’s wrists.

 “If you wanted me naked, you could’ve asked.” And they stare at each other a moment before Zayn leans in, hesitantly. Harry meets him halfway and then they’re kissing, Louis watching, rapt, as Harry’s hand slides up Zayn’s back to hold him by the shoulder blades. Zayn parts his mouth in a soft gasp when Harry thrusts his hips upwards, and Louis doesn’t know what to do, so he stands there, watches Zayn hover over Harry and slowly start to grind down, arms holding himself up on either side of Harry’s head. Zayn laughs suddenly, collapses onto Harry’s chest. Harry clears his throat.

 “Is there -?”

 “Louis, get over here,” Zayn says before leaning down to resume kissing Harry. And Louis can’t refuse - really, who in their right mind would? Harry sits up, hands around Zayn’s waist, lips still attached, and Louis swears it’s the hottest thing he has ever experienced ( keep in mind, Zayn is his boyfriend). Zayn shuffles back onto Harry’s knees and hums, pulling away from the younger boy to bite his lip. Louis smiles at both of them, already feeling the blood in his body rush to his lower half. Zayn is staring intently at Harry’s lips, as if in some kind of trance, and then he laughs, rubs a palm over his face roughly.

 “You good?” Louis asks, tone light. Zayn nods, smile timid.

 “I just - god, I never expected this to _actually_ happen.” He looks at Louis, and laughs again. “I’m sorry.” Louis smiles fondly back, petting through Zayn’s hair.

Their moment is broken when Harry, seemingly intent to make the implications of this night a reality, leans forward, nipping at Zayn’s jaw, nuzzling into his scruff. Zayn giggles, and nudges Harry back, to kiss him. Louis watches as Harry grinds the older boy into him, pressing sloppy kisses first into Zayn’s mouth, then into his neck. Zayn breathes heavily, and when his eyes flick over to Louis, his pupils are blown wide, lips red, cheeks pink, the face of sex.

 “You’re wearing too many clothes, considering the occasion,” Harry murmurs against Zayn’s skin, proceeding to suck on his adam’s apple. Louis isn’t sure who he’s talking to, so he stands up to take off his jeans, nearly falling over in his haste to get them off. Harry looks over Zayn’s shoulder, watches Louis giggle to himself. Louis crosses his arms and picks up the hem of his shirt - the way Zayn loves it, the way that makes his boyfriend lick over his lips and take a deep breath, without fail , every single time -  and when it’s over his head, Louis looks right into Harry’s eyes and smirks.

A last minute decision, Louis climbs behind Zayn, pushes his boyfriend forward, and hooks his chin over the younger boy’s shoulder. Zayn pulls away from Harry with an audible click of their mouths. “I don’t think Harry should be able to touch for a while,“ Louis says softly into Zayn’s skin. Zayn glides his thumb over Harry’s wet, plump lip, and nods.

 “Up close and personal. I like it.” Louis kisses Zayn’s shoulder, then moves to his neck, tracing his tongue over a mark Harry left. “You cool with that?” Zayn asks, slightly breathless. Louis watches as Harry takes a deep breath and nods, smile threatening to break out. Louis laughs into the back of Zayn‘s neck, then smoothes his face out instantly.

 “This is serious business.” Zayn giggles softly, turning his head to look at Louis fully. His lips are slightly swollen, and just because he can, Louis leans forward and kisses him, rubbing his hands along Zayn’s ribcage as he does so. Zayn shivers and grinds softly down onto Harry, causing the older boy to mewl.

 “No touching at all?” Louis shakes his head.

 “Not even yourself.” Harry lets out a deep  breath then smiles.

 “Game on.” The words are a murmured challenge, and Louis feels the need to push it as far as he can, to take it to the edge until one of them caves, so he wraps his arms around Zayn’s middle to gain access to the fly of his jeans. Zayn leans back, watches Louis unbutton his pants, then reach into his boxers and tug his cock out. Zayn’s already hard - has been the past five years it feels like - and extremely wet, and Louis’ sure grip makes him squirm, throw his head back onto Louis’ shoulder and moan obscenely. Louis bites the expanse of Zayn’s neck, eyes trained on Harry as the younger by scrambles to decide where to look. He decides to watch Louis’ mouth, and it’s extremely flattering how worked up it makes Harry. The dark haired boy closes his hands into fists and groans when Zayn shoves his ring and middle finger into his mouth.

The contrast makes Louis want to back away and just watch them go at it. Zayn’s inked skin is stark against Harry’s cherry red lips, and Louis nearly loses his shit when Harry  doesn’t even choke as Zayn fucks them into his mouth roughly, deep enough to be hitting the back of his throat. In that moment, Louis wonders how long he could hold Harry down on his cock, what it’d feel like to have him splutter, and when Louis deemed it acceptable, he’d pull Harry off, watch him gasp for air. He’d done it to Zayn plenty of times,  loved the feeling of Zayn’s hands gripping his thighs, fingertips pressing in hard, the feel of Zayn’s throat fluttering nervously around the head of his cock.

He moves his hand faster over Zayn’s cock, watches Harry watch him. He stares intently at Louis, licking over his lips slowly, parting them when Zayn squirms, fucking up into Louis’ hand. The oldest boy steadies him with a hand on his hip, conveying the message. Zayn stops instantly, and starts to fuck his fingers into Harry’s mouth again. Harry moans, the sound coming from deep down. Louis doesn’t understand how someone’s noises could make him so fucking _hot_.

Zayn withdraws his spit slick fingers only to have Harry chase them with his tongue, licking at them and sucking the tips of each finger into his mouth before releasing the older boy. Louis presses his lips against Zayn’s shoulder blade, hiding a smile. “Thought I was the slut.” Harry’s obscene lips stretch into a dimpled grin.

 “Just love things in my mouth.” This boy and his innuendos.

Zayn shakes his head in silent laughter then laces his and Louis’ fingers together. It’s sweet, achingly so. Louis kisses the spot behind Zayn’s ear, leaning forward to breathe against the younger boy’s pulse point, a spot that always got Zayn going, no matter the circumstances. He curses under his breath, and Louis can feel the tension in his boyfriend, knows he’s close. He doesn’t stop - no, he keeps up his pace, long strokes, from tip to base. He thumbs over Zayn’s slit every second upstroke, catches his nail on the ridge of his head, and Zayn loses it. He squeezes Louis’ hand in a vice like grip on his thigh, chest rising and falling rapidly with his ragged breaths.

Louis takes a glance at Harry to find the curly haired boy watching where Louis is wrapped around Zayn, licking over his lips every few seconds. Zayn’s eyes flutter closed, bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyebrows pinched together. Zayn tilts his head and lazily opens his eyes, and there’s this moment where it's just them, Zayn grinding filthily into Louis’ hand, their gazes locked, never wavering, and Louis smiles, kisses the corner of Zayn’s mouth.

“Come for me baby,” he says with a nip to his jaw. Zayn starts to thrust his hips, Louis licking a stripe up the side of his neck. Harry makes a noise in the back of his throat, sweet and high. Louis flicks his eyes to him, and Harry’s already looking. “Come for Harry.”

 “Oh - oh, _fuck_ ,” Zayn gasps, those words seeming to do the job. Zayn lets out a few more strangled, breathless “fucks” before spilling over Louis’ fist and onto his stomach.

Harry watches in awe as Zayn’s body shakes, muscles contracting, chest heaving. He smiles at the two boys perched on his lap, and before Zayn can even let out a final, steadying breath, Harry’s rubbing over Louis’ thighs, face flushed. Louis looks at him, unbearably hot despite his lack of clothing. Harry grins, absolutely filthy, given the situation. “Can I suck your cock?” Blunt.

Louis looks at Zayn and Zayn looks at Louis, and it's all sort of surreal, because Zayn nods, and then Louis nods, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder before getting off Harry’s lap. Zayn lifts up his leg and falls to the side, before tucking himself into his boxers. He reaches for the joint, relights it, and lazily takes a drag from it. Louis watches him, and so does Harry, both admiring Zayn’s ease, post coital flushed and stomach dotted with come.

Harry clears his throat, looking up at Louis. “Um.” He holds out the last letter, and Zayn nods his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

 “Please,” he laughs softly. “Continue.”

Louis and Harry switch spots silently, Louis taking up his place beside Zayn, and Harry lowering himself to his knees between Louis’ legs. Harry smiles up at Louis, smoothing his giant hands over Louis’ bare thighs. “So hot,” he murmurs, fingers dipping underneath the leg of Louis’ briefs. Louis looks to Zayn who watches them with interest, an arm tucked behind his head. When Louis looks back, Harry is looking at him, mouth slightly ajar. Louis scoots farther down, spreads his legs wide, giving himself comfort and Harry some room. He watches Harry closely, can see the younger boy’s pulse hammering just beneath the skin on his neck, can see the unfiltered lust through his blown-black pupils. It makes Louis hard - even harder than he already is - to know that just watching made Harry like this, so desperate.

His movements turn languid when he takes off Louis’ boxers, even slower once he takes Louis into his hand. Harry grips Louis’ cock tight, his enormous hand easing a few drops of pre come from his slit. Louis squirms, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach.

 “Such a pretty cock Louis,” Harry says quietly, appreciatively. Louis scoffs.

 “Instead of talking about it, why don’t you - oh, _fuck_.” He stretches the word at the vowel, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He watches as Harry sucks him to the hilt, cheeks hollowed, hand flattening against the soft hair there. Louis moans when Harry looks up at him, cock still down his throat.

 “Shit, Harry.” Harry hums, hand coming up to wrap around Louis’ base while he works over the first few inches with a sloppy tongue. He flattens his hand out again against Louis’ groin, jaw stretched with the effort of it. Louis thinks it may be the high kicking in, but somehow he feels like the world - right in time with Harry’s throat - is closing around him, and he moans, fucking his cock into Harry’s mouth. Harry closes his eyes and nods his head, moving his arms behind his back. Louis looks over to Zayn, threading a hand through Harry’s hair. Zayn licks over his lips, shrugging.

Louis looks at his boyfriend a beat longer before using the hand not tangled in Harry’s messy curls to ease his dick between said boy’s lips. Harry hums, moving his head forward, eager, so, so, eager. Louis curses then lifts his hips up in one quick, forceful thrust, testing the waters. It catches Harry by surprise, and he splutters, lets out a weak cough. Louis pulls him back, lets him catch his breath. “Alright?” Louis asks, soft. Harry opens his eyes, brings a hand to his face to wipe away tears and saliva.

 “Yeah, yeah, just -” he sniffles, eyes darting around nervously. “Pull my hair a bit, yeah? And maybe … hold me down … like, on … you?”

“Kinky little minx,” Zayn slurs, accent thick. Harry and Louis look at him. “I like you Harry.” Harry smiles, blush blooming high on his cheeks.

 “Thanks, I think.” Louis tugs on Harry’s hair a little bit, watches the younger boy close his eyes and swallow thickly. He opens them again and smiles shyly at Louis. “If you don’t mind.” Louis raises his eyebrows in question. “My… requests.”

 “Oh. Yeah, no problem.” Louis doesn’t know exactly what to say. Zayn lets out a huffed laugh beside him. “What?”

 “Just admiring the fact that sex diminishes you into this one and two word man, when you are _not_ a one and two word man.” Harry smoothes his hands over Louis’ thighs, up his abdomen, effectively making Louis forget Zayn’s comment. Harry laughs.

 “I was expecting a snarky reply there, and I’ve only known you a total of three hours.” Louis throws his hands up in desperation.

“ _Hey_ , I let you into my house -”

 “Our house.”

 “I let you into _our house_ ,” he looks pointedly at Zayn, “to fuck, not to judge me about my - my sexual tendencies.”

 “ _Sexual_ _tendencies_?” Zayn laughs. “My God, Harry, your mouth must be fucking fantastic. He’s turned into a dictionary.”

 “A dictionary?” Louis gasps, turning his body towards Zayn. “Ten seconds ago, I could barely utter two syllables, according to you.”

 “I just find it funny that -”

 “I kind of want to get fucked.” Zayn and Louis look at Harry simultaneously. “I mean, your banter is cute, but not when I’ve literally waited weeks for this.”

 “…”

 “…”

“…”

Zayn guffaws, stubbing out the joint in the ashtray, “Harry, I really _really_ like you.” He wipes a hand over his stomach, then pulls it away, as if only now remembering there was come on it. “Louis, he wants your cock. Give it to him.” Harry smiles sheepishly, and Louis laughs.

 “I hate you so much.” Zayn smiles, leaning forward to cup Louis’ jaw.

 “You fucking love me.” And then they kiss, and its sweet - it’s good, always good with Zayn. The raven haired boy nods his head once in response to Louis’ unasked question, foreheads bumping.

 “Alright Harry,” Zayn says, pulling away, “He’s all yours.” Harry looks at the ground, fingers poised against his lips.

 “Can you, uh…” He trails off, eyebrows knitting together. Louis smoothes it out with his thumb.

 “Feel free to share anything going through your mind.” He cards his fingers through Harry’s hair, fixing the mess he made. “Zayn and I are pretty accepting of _all_ sexual tendencies.” Harry laughs, a short burst of noise, almost like he didn’t mean for it to come out.

 “Okay, um, can I -” he breathes sharply through his nose, then smiles at the two boys on the couch. “Sorry, I’m not used to just - to just asking for the things I want. Most people usually… assume.” He takes another sharp breath. “Sorry, oversharing.”

 “We’re not most people,” Zayn says, angling his body towards the two boys, “And this is an unusual thing.” Harry glances at Zayn.  

 “Yeah.” Louis smiles, and something blooms inside of him. Not jealousy, something completely opposite on the spectrum. He grabs Zayn’s hand and squeezes, watching Harry, who stares into the eyes of his boyfriend. Harry clears his throat to whisper shyly.

 “Can I suck you while Louis fucks me?” Zayn smiles, leans forward to cup Harry’s jaw in his hands and kiss his nose.

 “Of course, love. Anything you want.” It’s the weed, making Zayn’s voice low and slow, making the dark haired boy talk with such airiness, such lightness. Harry closes his eyes and nudges his face further into Zayn’s hands. Louis is glad that he isn’t the only one who preens under such attention. Zayn kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth then gets up, shucking his jeans on his way out of the room.

 “Are you still hard?” Harry asks softly, not judgmental in the slightest. Louis looks down at his cock and realizes that yeah, he hasn’t flagged one bit during that entire exchange.

 “It’s the weed - and Zayn’s voice.” Harry smiles and nods knowingly. They’re silent a bit, before Harry clears his throat. Louis looks at him, and can sense that he is still uneasy. “Like I said before, we’re pretty -”

 “Accepting, yeah.” Harry smiles. “I think I’m too in my head.” Louis knows the feeling well, so he just hums, strokes along Harry’s jaw.

 “We’ll take care of you.” Harry nods, looks up at Louis.

 “Can we kiss again? I really like kissing.” Louis laughs and leans forward, Harry meeting him halfway. They kiss unhurriedly, with a sense of ease and calmness. It’s relaxing, the way their mouths move in synchronization, almost as if they had been doing this for years, muscle memory. Harry starts to move, slowly, into Louis’ lap, until he’s straddling the older boy, an exact opposite of tonight’s earlier position. Louis pulls away for breath, kisses Harry’s chin.

 “Why are you still dressed?” Harry looks down at himself, unbuttoned shirt and half zipped pants, and laughs.

 “I actually have no idea.” Louis looks at him, smiles so wide it hurts, before pushing the shirt off Harry’s shoulders and dragging his hands down his arms. Harry giggles, covering his nipples with his hands. Louis feels over Harry’s torso, starting at the top of his jeans and ending at his hands, whispering when he’s finished, “You’re so fucking hot.” Harry blushes, smiles shyly.

 “Thank you.” Louis just looks up at him, heat coursing through his body at the thought of being able to feel Harry, this blushing, bumbling, fucking _sexy_ man-boy hybrid, wrapped around him. “No one’s ever said it to me like that.”

 “Like what?” But before Harry can answer, Zayn comes back, naked and armed with a bottle of lube and a half empty box of condoms. Zayn throws himself onto the couch and eyes the change in scenery beside him.

 “You guys look good together.” Harry presses his lips into a line, and glances at Louis, who is looking at Zayn. Zayn laughs it off. “Is it cool if I prep you?” Harry looks to Zayn and shrugs.

 “Yeah, that’s good.” Louis rests his hands on Harry’s waist, tries not to let his nerves show.

 “You could lay across me, or I could sit in front of you… whatever you want.” Harry smiles, ducks his head to kiss Louis.

 “Gonna lay across you, yeah?” Louis nods his head and lets Harry stand up. The younger boy unbuttons his jeans, pushing them and his underwear down his legs, stepping out of them with haste. His cock bobs to his stomach - thick and long and wet - and Louis follows it with his eyes, mouth watering.

 “Fuck,” he says dumbly. Tattoos litter Harry’s body, more than the sparrows on his collarbones Louis saw earlier tonight - a rose, mermaid, and anchor on his left arm, laurel leaves framing his hips. Zayn reaches out, tracing over the wing of the butterfly in the center of his torso. Harry shivers, nipples hardening.

 “Fuck,” Zayn repeats, fingers coasting over warm skin. Louis watches as Harry slowly grows red.

 “It's like you’ve never seen someone really fit naked.”

 “Fit doesn’t even begin to describe-” Zayn stops, and Louis nods in agreement. Harry wraps one hand around himself and strokes upward, glancing down at Zayn and Louis.

 “Which I know isn’t true, because look at you guys.” Zayn and Louis look at each other, then back to Harry, who lets out a soft breath, stroking over his cock slowly. “I mean, honestly.” Zayn laughs, dragging his hand down Harry’s thigh. 

 “Less talk, a little more -” He makes a vague gesture with his hands and bites his lips, dragging his eyes up Harry’s body to his face. Louis can literally see the moment when Harry’s resolve crumbles. His soft smirk drops and is replaced by slightly parted lips and wide eyes. He scrambles into the space between Zayn and Louis, draping himself over the latter’s lap. Zayn gets to his knees and runs his hands over Harry’s milky thighs. They come to a stop at the top of Harry’s ass, and Louis watches Zayn drag a dry finger over the curly haired boy’s hole. Harry mewls, smashing his cheek against Louis’ thigh.

 “Fuck,” he whispers, mostly to himself. Louis reaches out and strokes back a few strands of hair while Zayn grabs the lube, squirting some of the sticky substance onto his index and middle fingers. Zayn opens up Harry quickly, the youngest boy panting hotly against Louis’ thigh. Harry gasps out, “Okay”, only a few minutes in, lifts himself up and drops his head between his shoulders. “Alright.”

 “You sure?” Louis asks, scratching his nails over Harry’s scalp. He nods.

 “Love it when it hurts.” The words, mumbled breathily, go straight to Louis’ cock. He watches Zayn withdraw his fingers, wiping them on the back of the couch. Zayn fish mouths at the sight. Louis can only imagine.

 “You’re so fucking hot,” Zayn says, smoothing a hand up Harry’s spine. Harry smiles and looks behind himself, jutting out his ass.

 “Say it again.” Zayn moves his hands up to Harry’s ribcage, locking eyes with the boy over his shoulder.

 “So fucking hot.” Harry bites his lip, sitting up slightly right as Zayn leans over, and then they’re kissing over Harry‘s shoulder, mouths connecting wetly, and wow. Louis feels light headed, like there isn’t enough air in the room. Zayn pulls back with a small smile and they stare at each other a few seconds before Harry leans in again, and Zayn pecks the younger boy once, twice, three times before once again pulling away and smiling.

 “You make me feel -” Zayn, never at a loss for words, who always knows exactly what to say, stops mid sentence, combing a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.” Harry smiles, standing up.

 “Thank you.” Zayn looks to Louis and laughs, covering his face with his hands.

 “This is absolutely _ridiculous_.” Zayn laughs in agreement.

Harry settles onto Louis’ lap, long, lithe legs spread wide, and Louis feels something unknown when there isn’t any awkward bumbling as Harry puts his arm behind Louis’ neck, no apologies when Louis hitches Harry’s leg higher for a deeper angle. Like when they kiss, it's like they’ve been doing it for years, muscle memory.

Louis reaches underneath Harry to grab his cock and guide it into the younger boy, watching his face the entire time. Harry wastes no time, batting Louis’ hand away and sitting down slowly. Louis closes his eyes and lets out a long groan, tight, wet heat enveloping him from head to toe. Harry gasps, the sound tearing Louis’ eyes open. But instead of the pained expression Louis expected, Harry is biting his lip, eyes slit in obvious rapture.

 “Fucking shit,” Harry whispers, and honestly, when did the room get so hot? Louis doesn’t know, but he feels like he’s going to combust any second now.

 “You good?” he asks, and Harry nods his head, circling his hips.

 "Fucking fantastic." Louis watches Harry’s face as the younger boy slowly sits up, then slams back down. His eyebrows are scrunched, cheeks ruddy, and all Louis can think is how fucking _good_ Harry feels, burning heat like that of ten thousand suns consuming his entire body. And then Harry loses his balance and sinks down on Louis fast and hard, and Louis’ can barely breathe.  

 “Fuck,” they breathe out in unison. Harry laughs softly, fingers digging into Louis’ shoulder, when Louis softly inches his hips up.

 “Go ahead,” Harry says. Louis raises his eyebrows. “Fuck me.” And if that isn't an invitation, Louis doesn't know what is. He's careful at first, holding Harry's delicate hips in his hands and thrusting softly, but after a whine of, “Please,” escapes Harry's pretty mouth, Louis doubles his efforts. He fucks up into Harry with sloppy thrusts, aiming not for his prostate, but for everything beside that. Harry goes loose, muscles relaxed, surprisingly light, for all that length he's got.

Louis stills his hips, let's Harry fall into his lap with a soft gasp. Zayn lights up beside them, takes a slow drag and settles a hand on Harry's thigh. Louis feels himself flushing, for what reason, he has no idea. Out of nowhere, Zayn looks Harry right in the eye, and wraps a hand around his cock, tugging upwards sharply. Harry's mouth opens in a silent moan, eyes closed in pleasure. Before Louis can continue fucking Harry, he does so himself, his thighs bulging with the effort.

"Oh my god," he grits out, fucking down on each word.  
  
"Holy shit," Louis says, because that's it, that's all that is in his brain. Harry groans when Zayn jerks his hand up, lazily inhaling from the joint. Louis kisses the soft skin underneath his arm and Harry whimpers, shoulders shuddering.  
  
"Fuck, I'm, shit," he settles onto Louis'  lap and grinds back and forth, "I'm too-" he cuts off with a soft moan, moving his arm from behind Louis' neck.  
  
"Too what?" Zayn asks, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. It's hotter than it should be. "Words, love." Harry absolutely preens at that, bouncing once on Louis' very hard dick.  
  
"Fuck me, just fuck me." And the words barely even clear his mouth before Louis lifts him up and gets from underneath him before pushing him back onto the couch. 

Harry's startled for a second, eyes wide and mouth open distractedly, but he scrambles to his hands and knees, Zayn turning to face him, joint between his lips and an indifferent expression on his face. Harry wiggles his bum before dipping down and taking Zayn into his mouth. Louis watches Zayn’s chest expand with a deep breath, the only sign that this has any effect on him. Louis is quite jealous of his casualty, if he's being honest. Zayn is so effortless about this, like this had all happened before and this was just taking it's course.

 “Lou,” Harry rasps, mouth red and slick and everything that could be the cause of Louis’ premature death. “Wanna be full.”

As if Louis wasn't on his deathbed already.

Before Louis can reply, Zayn steps in, grabbing his dick by the base and tapping Harry's cheek gently. “Want to be stuffed full of cock, is that what you wanted when you saw me fucking Louis?” Harry looks up at Zayn, pokes his tongue out to lick over his cockhead. Harry shakes his head.

 “Wanted you anyway I could have you. Were too good to be true.”

 “Hmm,” Zayn hums, joint soldered down to a tiny nub. He remains cool as Harry starts licking over him, tongue laving small circles onto the heated skin. “Such a pretty mouth Harry.” Harry doesn't say anything as Zayn stubbs out the joint and threads his fingers into Harry's hair.

Louis watches the interaction silently, frozen to the spot with utter disbelief. He never thought he'd live to see the day when he would watch Zayn - his boyfriend for Christ's sake - get sucked off by a man and beautiful as Harry. Harry makes a noise that startles Louis, a soft whine, followed by the suction sound of his mouth leaving Zayn’s cock.

 “You gonna fuck me?” And when he looks at Louis with glassy eyes and candy lips, it's instinctual for Louis to saddle up behind the younger boy and grip his hips, firm and reassuring

 “Ask me nicely.”

 “Please fuck me Louis,” Harry asks him sweetly, and doesn't even wait for Louis’ response before taking Zayn into his mouth. Zayn and Louis’ eyes meet across Harry's body, and Zayn shrugs, looking down at Harry with lidded eyes.

Louis takes a deep breath, then lines himself up, pulse pounding. This couldn't be his life.

Harry let's out a groan when Louis pushes forward, head dropped between his shoulders. Louis pushes a palm in the middle of his back, watching the muscles of his shoulder blades shift. Harry's consuming him, taking over his everything, making him see stars. Louis can't believe he gets to fuck such a pretty specimen, and Zayn's his boyfriend for Christ's sake. Harry mewls brokenly and pulls off Zayn, fist working over his shiny cock.

 “I'm gonna come,” he says breathlessly, eyes clenched shut as he turns his head toward Louis. “Keep fucking me like this, just - _fuck_.”

 “Fuck,” Louis agrees, picking up his speed. His hips snap against Harry's harshly, the sound filling up the room quickly. Louis is on edge, completely intent on making Harry come from just his cock. Harry's still jerking Zayn off, albeit more lazily then before- his fist stills when Louis hits his prostate then continues as if it had never stopped.

Louis doesn't actually realize that Harry's murmuring something until he lets out a long groan and tightens around Louis. “Shit shit shit,” he says, and then he's coming, Louis thinks. Harry's fucking himself on Louis’ cock, and Louis watches, mesmerized, as Harry's ass fucking _ripples_ with each connection of their skin.

One final groan is ripped from Harry's throat, and then he goes still, face pressed against Zayn's thigh. Louis once again pushes a hand in the small of Harry's back to pin him down and snaps his hips forward, once just to test it. Harry whimpers but mumbles something, and Louis fucks into him once more.

 “What was that princess?” Zayn chuckles and pets through Harry's hair.

 “Keep fucking him.” Louis darts his eyes to the back of Harry's head and he's nodding, hand going back to Zayn's dick from where it had fallen to the dark haired boy’s thigh sometime during his orgasm. Zayn cups Harry's face in his palm and nods at Louis. He takes a deep breath and continues to fuck Harry, chasing his orgasm almost violently. Harry just lets out broken moans, head never moving from Zayn's thigh. Louis holds the younger boy down and gives it to him in earnest, keeping his thrusts fast and deep. The coil in his stomach is tightening quickly, and he's almost there, when Harry shifts and starts fucking himself again. Louis loses it, grips Harry's hips in his hands and meets him halfway. Harry braces himself on one arm and looks over his shoulder.

It isn't Harry's ass that makes Louis come in the end, it's his face, the tear tracks on his cheeks and his lips tucked into an absolutely sinful grin. Louis buries himself in the boy beneath him and takes a handful of Harry's sweat dampened hair. Harry cries out and goes with it, neck straining, red mouth open wide.

Louis comes into the condom unceremoniously, drops Harry's hair belatedly. His whole body feels like a live wire, and when he slips out of Harry, it isn't long before Harry's moving, letting Louis’ still hard cock slip from his body.

 “Fuck me Zayn?” And Louis can't help the hysterical laugh that escapes him because _this can't be real._ Harry looks over his shoulder and smiles, all energy regained, it seemed.

 “You're unbelievable,” Louis says, standing up to tie the condom and chuck it somewhere.

 “Believe it babe,” Zayn says, grinning. He stands as well, and bends to kiss Louis chastely on the lips. Louis laughs again, and waits for Zayn to take his place. The younger boy does, flipping Harry onto his back, long legs spread wide. He pushes into Harry right away, wasting no time at all to work up a brutal pace. Harry takes it amazingly (Why did Louis expect any less?), hand ghosting over his half hard cock.

Louis breaks out of his trance when Harry moans roughly. “Slutty,” Zayn murmurs, teasing Harry with just the tip of his cock. “Beg for it.” Harry curses and Louis really needs to sit down before he passes out. Harry stays silent and once again trails his fingers up his cock. “Stop,” Zayn says, but Harry continues, until Zayn has to stop and knock his hand away. Harry whines petulantly.

 “Gonna come again, princess, just from my cock.” Louis almost gasps as loud as Harry does. Zayn scoffs, driving his cock into Harry. “Don't act like you won't love every second.” Zayn is still, Harry's ass flush against his hips. “Beg for it.” Harry squirms and it's so beautiful, the way his nose scrunches up defiantly. Zayn slaps the inside of Harry's thigh, turning the milky skin red.

 “Please, Zayn, I need it.”

 “Need what?” Louis is sweating.

 “Need your cock.” The way Harry says it, voice desperate, eyes wide and pleading, Louis wouldn't be able to deny. But Zayn does.

 “Don't think you deserve it.” Harry mewls, hands gripping the couch cushion.

 “Please.” Zayn dances his fingers up Harry's chest and pinches his nipple.

 “You were very naughty, watching me fuck Louis.” Louis flicks his eyes to Zayn. “Spying on your neighbors, getting off to them.” Harry's gone silent, all eyes in the room on Zayn. Louis can always read Zayn, is always one step ahead of him.

 Louis is lost.

 “Maybe you shouldn't be able to come after all,” Zayn continues, pulling himself out of Harry completely. “What do you think, Louis?” Louis starts at his name, entranced by Harry. The youngest boy's eyes meet his, glassy with his pupil blown wide, and Louis can't say no. Not entirely.

 “Well,” he starts, and all eyes are on him while he moves to sit down, taking Harry's head in his lap. “He should come,” Harry moans, tipping his head back to properly look at Louis, “but he's not allowed to touch. Me, you, or himself.” Harry starts to make a noise of protest but it's silenced when Louis takes a handful of his hair. “In fact,” Louis let's go of his hair to take his wrists, pinning them against the arm of the couch. “There, I like that.”

Harry looks back to Zayn with a pout. “Please fuck me.”

 “Needy little thing, aren't you?” Harry closes his eyes and pushes against Louis’ hands, whining when met with resistance.

 “Please Zayn, please please _please.”_ Harry looks so beautiful, forehead shiny with sweat, lips puffy and red from his teeth, Louis takes pity on him. “Show me how naughty I've been.”

The room seems to spring into action, Zayn thrusting himself into Harry with a rough growl. Harry opens his mouth in a hiss and spreads his legs wider, body rattled with the force of Zayn's movements, chest heaving. Louis almost misses the way Zayn takes a deep breath, but he catches it. Zayn's not really a talker during sex but when he does it's raunchy, words spoke in a gruff voice that could make Louis come instantly.

 “Fucking slutty little Harry aren't you?” Harry strains against Louis’ hands once more, letting out a weak moan. “Liked being used, just a hole to fuck?” Harry's eyes are clenched shut, mouth open. “Letting your neighbors have turns,” Zayn drags his nails down Harry's chest, hips moving in slow circles now, “maybe next time we could fuck you at the same time, two cocks filling you up, stretching you wide.” Harry let's out a sob.

 “Please.” He's pliant in Louis’ hands now, too fucked out, Louis assumes.

 “Ooh, dirty boy. God can you imagine how gaped you would be?”

 “I can't,” Harry gasps, hips squirming, “I can't come. I need-”

 “You don't need anything.” Zayn's voice is cold, reprimanding. “You're gonna come, just like this, slut. I'm giving you what you wanted, don't be greedy.”

 “But-”

 “No,” Louis says, pressing his hands against the couch sharply. “You're gonna come like this or you're not coming at all.” Zayn laughs and starts fucking Harry in earnest again, skin connecting with skin roughly. Harry jumps on a particularly hard thrust, eyes flying open and mouth a pretty o.

 “Right there, oh fuck,” he gasps, body writhing. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Louis keeps his eyes trained on Harry's cock, the red tip smearing precome onto his skin. One more thrust and Harry's coming again, abdomen muscles flexing while his cock spurts messily up his chest, some catching his jaw. Zayn keeps fucking Harry, even when Harry starts crying, fighting against Louis’ hands.

 “Take it like the greedy whore you are.” Louis keeps him pinned, watching as Zayn destroys him, fingers bruising on his hips, thrusts brutal.

 “Zayn, please, I can't-” And with one long groan, Zayn's coming too, buried deep inside Harry. Harry closes his eyes and let's out a deep breath, head lull in Louis’ lap. Louis drops his head onto the back of the couch, breathing even despite watching all of _that._

There's a movement, and then laughter, soft and sated. Louis turns his head to look at Zayn, who's standing, looking down at Harry's ass.

 “What-” Harry takes his hands out of Louis' and dips them beneath his soft cock. Louis has absolutely no idea what's going on.

 “I forgot the condom.” Harry pulls his fingers up and sure enough, there's Zayn's come, lining his index and middle fingers.

 “You're a terrible person,” Louis sighs.

 “Bed please,” Harry requests, voice raw. Louis looks up at Zayn, who's smiling sweetly, still high from the looks of it. Louis stands up on shaky legs, then gets Harry into a sitting  position.

A few minutes later, they make it to their bedroom, and Louis lays Harry down in the middle of their unmade bed. Harry nuzzles into the  pillows and makes grabby hands for Louis.

 “Cuddle,” he says softly, and how is Louis gonna say no to that.

He shuffles in behind Harry while Zayn cuddles him from the front, and there's come on the inside of Harry's thighs but no one wants to do anything about it. Harry hums happily.

 “Thank you.” Louis strokes his hair, Zayn cups his cheek.

 “Don't need to thank us, babe.” Louis nods in agreement and is gonna say something, but forgets.

 “Night Lou. Night Z.”

Louis goes to sleep that night thinking, _The things voyeurism can bring you._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hopefully that wasn't as awful as i thought it would be, and thanks for reading. chat with me on twitter @glitterbabyhaz about the wonders of harrys thighs and/or armpits. comments, criticism and anything else is always greatly appreciated. 1 million internet kisses to you, dear reader, for putting up with my existence <3


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